"I'm glad to hear it. Now I've fixed up this matter of young McCrae's. That's settled. No more trouble about it. As to your man, McHale, I'm told that his trial will be a mere matter of form. Wade will look after that. Now, about Clyde."
"Yes," said Casey.
"She's her own mistress—you understand that. You have a good property here—not as much money as she has, but enough to get along on if she hadn't anything. That's all right. I suppose her money's no drawback, eh? Don't look mad about it, young man. You're fond of her, of course. I understand you made what you've got yourself?"
"Every cent. I've been out for myself since I was about fifteen. This is what I've got to show for it."
"And it's a good little stake," said Hess heartily. "I made my own pile, too. That's what I like. Now, I'm going to ask you a personal question: What sort of life have you behind you? You understand me. There must be no comeback where Clyde is concerned. I want a straight answer."
"You'll get it. I've always been too busy to be foolish. My habits are about average—possibly better than average. I'm absolutely healthy. I've not had a day's sickness—bar accidents—since I grew up. There's absolutely no reason why I shouldn't marry Clyde."
"That's the boy!" said old Jim Hess, with satisfaction, gripping his hand again. "Your stock's par with me, remember, and I want you to consider me your friend, even if I am to be a relation by marriage."
Shortly afterward Sheila and Farwell arrived on hard-ridden horses.
"She hustled me right over here," said the latter. "Didn't even give me time to shave. I told her McHale and Sandy were all right, but she had to come to see for herself."
"Seeing that Sandy has eaten six fried eggs with bacon and bread buns to match, I imagine he may be regarded as convalescent," laughed Casey. "Tom has the tobacco trust half broken already."